


Punks Of A Feather

by DragonAngelFunandFire



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders (Sanders Sides), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Punk, Anxiety Disorder, Child Neglect, Deceit Sanders Being An Asshole, Gen, Homophobia, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Depression, Sort of a drabble series, TW: Piercings, TW: Tattoos, anger issues, no real plot, tw: fighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonAngelFunandFire/pseuds/DragonAngelFunandFire
Summary: Based on asofterfan's Punk AU, used with permission.Logan and Virgil have been friends since 3rd grade, and became true punks together. They became blood brothers shortly before 8th grade, and got their first tattoos in 9th grade.High school sucks, though.Still, it's not all bad, the two decide, as they meet new friends and get a true family. After all, the bar for family was already set pretty low between the two of them.





	1. Meeting Logan and Virgil (Or Logan and Virgil Meeting)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for the Sanders Sides Big Bang, but I had to drop out. So, I'm posting this here. Hope you enjoy!

Logan was smarter than the other kids, and he knew it.

He was sooooooo bored in third grade, and he wished his parents had let him skip up to higher grades. They did not, though, citing that "he should be with kids his own age." His parents cared more for his social life than his mental engagement.

At the current moment, the English teacher was assigning partners for a project. It was a biography project, and it was a big part of their final grade. Logan knew that he wanted to do Galileo, Leonardo da Vinci, or Marie Curie. Logan knew he was a nerd, and he embraced that fact… for now.

He heard his name being called "Logan Sanders and Virgil Thompson!" He tuned out the rest. He didn't care about who was in the other groups.

Virgil Thompson was the kid who lived just down the street. Logan had seen Virgil on occasion, trying to lug a trash bag that was filled with, it sounded like, broken glass and was bigger than he was out to a trash can he couldn't even reach. Virgil always wore oversized clothes, and almost never short sleeves, even in summer. Logan knew he was a bit of a loner, being smarter than everyone in the class, but Virgil actively went out of his way to avoid any form of human contact. Logan sighed, thinking this was going to be another project that he would have to do all by himself.

Virgil had walked over to Logan's desk while Logan was thinking, and was now standing awkwardly, waiting for Logan to take the lead.

"Hello, Virgil, I am Logan. I was thinking of doing either Galileo, Leonardo da Vinci, or Marie Curie for the project. Do you have any preferences or other ideas?" Logan spoke, taking the lead as Virgil was waiting for him to do.

"Um, I kinda like da Vinci. Wasn't he the gay one?" Virgil mumbled.

"Kind of," Logan corrected.

"What?" Virgil was confused.

"It's not 'kinda,' it's 'kind of.' I'm correcting your grammar. As for your question, there were some allegations of da Vinci being homosexual, but none of them were ever proven," Logan steamrolled over Virgil's "I don't care", as he had a tendency to do when he had information to share.

"Oh, ok. So how are we gonna do this project thingy?" Virgil asked, once again butchering the English language.

"It's 'going to,'' here, Virgil's fists clenched, not that Logan could see it, as the hoodie Virgil was wearing covered his hands, "and there were four main aspects to da Vinci: the man, the artist, the scientist, and the inventor. We can split those, if you want."

"I'll take artist. After that, I don't really care," Virgil shrugged nonchalantly, as if he wasn't this close to murdering Logan for his know-it-all, better-than-you attitude.

"Very well, I will take man and scientist, if you are okay with taking artist and inventor," Logan decided.Virgil nodded and shrugged at the same time to show he was okay with that.

As the two got to work, Logan was pleasantly surprised to find that Virgil was doing his fair share of the work. He hated when he was paired up with "grin-effers," as his dad called them. Logan wasn't quite sure what that meant, but his father had used it often enough for him to infer. Logan pulled his train of thought back on track; he had work to do, after all, and he planned on acing this project.

Hours later, after school had been let out for the day, Logan met Virgil at the entrance to the school. They had agreed to walk home together and discuss the presentation format for the biography project. Maybe, Logan mused, I could invite Virgil over to work on the project this afternoon.

"Hey," Virgil mumbled as Logan walked up. Logan hadn't been sure if Virgil had seen him coming, as he had been leaning against the wall with his head bowed and his bangs over his face.

"Hello," Logan replied, understanding the need for pleasantries, even if he did not agree with them himself. They began walking home together, discussing the project.

"So," Logan continued, "would you prefer a poster format or a Power Point?"

"Dunno," Virgil answered, still a bit mad at Logan for the grammar corrections earlier that day.

"It's 'I don't know,' you know," Logan commented off-hand, already considering the pros and cons of each option for presentation, not noticing that Virgil looked murderous at this point.

"I think a poster would be better idea, as the PowerPoint could be lost far more easily," Logan thought out loud.

"K," Virgil commented, feeling like he should say something here.

"It's 'ok,' not just 'k,'" Logan corrected distractedly, not realizing that he had sealed his fate.

Suddenly (or so it seemed to Logan), Virgil stopped walking in front of Logan, turned around, and socked him in the face. As they were third graders, short and not very fast, they were still on school grounds, though barely, when Virgil did this. Virgil was issued a detention the next day, and Logan had to talk to the counselor about manners.

Two days later, Logan saw Virgil again on the neighborhood playground. He had a large bruise on his cheek, to match the one he had given Logan, though it seemed to Logan to be much worse than the one that Virgil had given Logan. Making a decision, Logan walked up to Virgil.

"Hello. I would like to apologize for continuously correcting your grammar, and for not seeing how angry it was making you," Logan said, surprising Virgil and himself. Logan knew, on some level, that Virgil, who never seems to talk unless he has to, would never start the conversation, so he knew that he would have to start it himself.

"I'm sorry for punching you," Virgil replied after getting over his surprise.

"Would you like to be friends?" Logan asked, holding out his hand to shake, hopeful. He had never had a friend before, as no one could stand his intelligence. He also had a feeling that Virgil had also never had a friend before, though for other reasons.

"Sure," Virgil said hesitantly, reaching out to take Logan's hand.

Such was the beginning of a wonderful friendship.


	2. Meeting the Families (Or Not)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the child abuse and child neglect really starts showing up.

Virgil knew his family wasn’t normal.

Family didn’t hit you when you forgot to cook dinner. Family didn’t make you take out a trash bag bigger than yourself to a trash can that you can’t reach, then punish you when you didn’t put the trash in the can.

Still, Virgil didn’t know any different. He knew that his family wasn’t normal, he figured that out when he heard other kids at school talking about their families, but that did nothing to prepare him to come face-to-face with the whirlwind of love and strength that was Logan’s mother.

Virgil had gone over to Logan’s house to work on the English project on da Vinci that they had been partnered up for. Logan’s house was nice, Virgil supposed, it was certainly cleaner. There were no alcohol bottles strewn across the floor, not broken needles hiding in darkened corners, no darkened corners at all, really. It was done in nice, clean colors, mostly warm browns and clear ocean blues. It was a very pretty house, actually, and Virgil wondered what Logan’s parents did for a living to get such a nice house.

When asked, Logan responded, “Well, my father is an aerospace engineer for NASA, so he works with space shuttles and airplanes, and my mother is a doctor. I am not sure what I will be when I grow up yet. What about you?”

“I don’t know what I want to be yet,” Virgil mumbled, hoping Logan wouldn’t notice that he avoided the question about his parents. Logan did, but he decided not to bring it up.

“So, where are your parents? Are they working right now?” Virgil asked tentatively, wanting to know the answer but not wanting to poke a possibly sensitive topic.

“They’re not around much; they have too much work to hang around with me playing,” Logan shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but Virgil wasn’t quite buying it.

He changed the subject anyway, “What kind of music do you like to listen to?”

“I like to listen to Linkin Park. Some of it is clearly inappropriate for me, given that I am only ten, but I quite enjoy it,” Logan replied, eyes lighting up with excitement, “And you?”

“Linkin Park is pretty good, but I prefer Evanescence,” Virgil answered, glad to have found someone with similar music choices. Maybe he could finally have a …. friend?

“Mmmm, I like Evanescence, too,” Logan mused a bit, “What’s your favorite Linkin Park song?”

“I like Papercut. What’s your favorite Evanescence song?” Virgil shot back.

“I like Everybody’s Fool,” Logan replied after some thought.

The two spent the rest of the afternoon doing the project on Leonardo da Vinci, bonding over their shared music tastes, and listening to the music that the other preferred. Virgil noticed that Logan preferred songs that communicated a lot of anger, while Logan noticed that Virgil’s were usually full of sadness and cries for help. Through the music, the two learned a lot about each other, as neither was as unobservant as normal children were. Both had learned to watch and listen, as it was required for survival. The two made an interesting pair: the nerd with neglectful parents, so full of anger and rage, and the emo with abusive parents, full of anxiety and fear.


	3. Finding Punk

Elementary school was interesting, Logan mused, but middle school was even more so.

Of course, Logan knew that Virgil didn’t think so, as Virgil didn’t like having to carry his backpack around to the different classes, or that the two friends weren’t in all of the same classes, but Logan liked it. Well, more than he liked elementary school, that is.

The library had many more interesting books, and Logan enjoyed reading. He knew he was still ahead of most of his peers, and Virgil was, too, because they studied together. Logan knew that Virgil was much smarter than his grades let on; his family routinely made sure that he couldn’t do his homework.

Logan learned everything he could. He became a fountain of useful and useless knowledge. He despised stupidity and laziness when it came to learning. He never volunteered answers in class, but always had the correct answer when called on. He hated it, despised it, when the teachers taught material that was outdated. He became infamous for arguing with the teachers over any little detail.

Logan was a loner. He knew this. His only friend was Virgil, another loner. He was perfectly okay with this. He preferred to have one friend who was not as dull as the rest of his classmates than to have many friends who were that dull.

One day, as Logan and Virgil were hanging out, Virgil surfing on Logan’s computer at the desk while Logan studied on the floor, Virgil found something interesting.

“Hey, Logan, come look at this,” Virgil whisper-yelled. Virgil never raised his voice very loud, and he was a quiet person by nature. His voice almost never got above the inside voice the teachers talked about.

“What is it?” Logan got up from the floor, curious.

“It’s a thing called ‘punk.’ I’m not sure what it is, I found it when I was looking for music,” Virgil explained, looking at the computer.

“It looks to be a clothing style? No, a lifestyle, associated with certain types of music,” Logan peered over Virgil’s shoulder, reading.

“Look, it’s some of the bands we already like,” Virgil noted. The two decided to look up the other bands on the list to see if they liked them. (Spoiler: they did!)  
Logan found that he liked Fall Out Boy and MCR quite a bit, as the screaming and the thought-drowning volume matched him well, as did the barely-restrained rage in the lyrics. Virgil preferred Evanescence still, but found he liked Panic! At the Disco as well, as the changing sound of every album seemed to fit his life: ever changing, and certainly interesting, though maybe not always in a good way.

The two decided that they should get ear piercings as soon as they could. Virgil was a bit apprehensive about the needles, but he felt something resonate in him when he found the lifestyle called punk.

Virgil decided to get piercings on both of his ears, just the lobes to start. He had no doubt that that would change in the future, but he didn’t want to go too hard too fast. Logan had no such compunctions, but only wanted one piercing, his left ear, for now. They both knew they would eventually want more, but they decided to start with the basics first.

After they got their piercings and the care kits, they decided to look for hair dye. They both found those to be really cool, though Virgil was nervous about standing out too much, and planned on only getting a darker color.

“What do you think, Virgil?” asked Logan, holding up a box of bright, neon green hair dye.

“I don’t think that it’s really your color,” Virgil replied hesitantly, wincing a bit. Logan looked at the box for a minute or two, likely trying to imagine himself with the bright green hair, and put the box back.

“You are right, I don’t think the neon or lighter colors will fit either of our skin tones or clothing styles,” Logan replied, considering the remaining colors. Virgil was alternating between purple and black, and Logan was considering the dark green and the dark blue.

“Just grab both of the ones you want, we can try both and buy more of our favorite,” Logan made the decision.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure I can pay for it,” Virgil hesitated, still unsure. Logan held up the credit card his parents had given him the last time they visited the house and smirked.


	4. Becoming Punks and Becoming Brothers

Virgil tried the black hair dye first. He didn’t dye all of his hair, just the bangs that hung in front of his face, for now. Logan tried the dark green first, doing streaks throughout his hair, but not his whole head. Neither of them thought that the colors quite fit them, close, but not quite, but they couldn’t do anything now until the dye washes out.

Because of the hair dye, Virgil got called emo a lot in middle school. The two were bullied quite a lot, actually. The bullies could push Virgil around because he was so shy; he hardly ever spoke, and he was used to getting hit. When Logan was around, the bullies got Logan suspended a lot for fighting by picking on Virgil. Logan would come to Virgil’s rescue by punching the bullies, thus getting in trouble for fighting. Administration could never seem to get ahold of Logan’s parents for very long, though.

When the hair dye washed out (finally), the two tried the other colors they bought: purple for Virgil and dark blue for Logan. They both prefered the new colors. It just seemed to fit them better. Around this time, Logan also discovered ties and spiked jackets. He took one of his father’s black dress shirts, sewed some spikes onto the shoulders, and wore a tie matching his hair color loosely around his neck. Virgil took one of his black jackets, sewed some spikes into the shoulders, and made the hood a bit bigger so he could hide his whole head in it. He did the same with his favorite fingerless gloves, so that his punches could hurt more if he ever needed to punch anyone. Both wore combat boots and black jeans, though neither had ripped jeans. They both found it too troublesome, as they would accidently step into the holes in the jeans and not the pant leg itself. It was too much work, especially on mornings when they both stayed up late.

They both got into the punk music, as well. Virgil found that he prefered Evanescence and Panic! At the Disco, while Logan prefered Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance. Neither made fun of the other’s preferences, as they both understood what it was like to be ridiculed for who you are. Around this time, Virgil also found a love for art and graffiti.

Throughout their transition to their new lifestyle, the two became even closer, if that were possible. By the time they finished the awkward limbo and growth period known as middle school, they were closer than friends, they were brothers. They even had a blood pact.

_The day before eighth grade started:_   
_“Logan, I’m nervous,” Virgil admitted. It was the first day that the two would be going to school in full punk gear. They spent the summer getting everything ready, and now they would start the new school year ready to fight anyone and everything._

_“That’s perfectly normal, Virgil. We are starting a new lifestyle and showing it to the public. Just remember, their opinions do not matter. We are who we are, and they can do nothing to change that. If they cannot accept that, too damn bad,” Logan reassured his friend. Logan could see that Virgil was somewhat reassured, but there was something else bothering him._

_“Virgil, what’s wrong?” Logan asked, as softly as the intelligent punk could._

_“I don’t want to be alone again,” Virgil whispered, so low that Logan barely heard it._

_“Virgil, I will never leave you alone willingly. We are brothers, you know this. I will prove it, as you may need a physical reminder in the future when you have these doubts again,” Logan decided, going towards his bed and pulling out the knife under his pillow._

_“Lo, wha-” Virgil was cut off as Logan drew the knife across his palm and offered the knife to Virgil. Virgil understood. He took the knife and did the same, placing his bloodied palm against Logan’s._

_“We are brothers, Virgil. Do not forget. Children of shitty parents, punks together. I. Will. Not. Leave,” Logan emphasized, “And now, you will have a scar to remind you when you these doubts resurface, as they undoubtedly will.”_

_“Thanks, Logan,” Virgil said, smiling softly._

Shortly after, Virgil also found makeup, and began using black eyeshadow to cover the bags under his eyes and concealer to hide the bruises. Never from Logan, but from the rest of the world, and even himself.

And now, the two fledgling punks were getting ready to start high school. This would be so much fun. 


	5. Freshman Tattoos (and A Punk Tattoo Artist)

This time, it was Virgil’s idea.

That’s not to say it was a bad idea, per se, but it had a lot of potential to go very wrong. The idea was this: Virgil wanted to get tattoos. What tattoos, he didn’t know yet, but he wanted to get matching tattoos with Logan. In true Logan style, he went on a research binge about tattoos. They knew it was going to hurt, they just wanted to make sure they did it right.

They found someone who would be willing to make the two of them very realistic fake IDs, as the laws around tattoos say 16 with parental permission, which they both knew they would never get, or 18 without.

Logan chose his tattoo to be on his left arm and just be a text tattoo, saying OUTLIER, as Logan acknowledged that his advanced intelligence made him an outlier in his age group, and his punk attitude and anger issues, even more so. Virgil chose his to be on his right arm and say OUTSIDER, because he had always been an outsider, from his age group, from normal families, and from pretty much everything else. Virgil designed the text types for the tattoos, making it kind of block-type text, like the kind of letters that an alarm clock would form if it could form letters. He thought it was apt.

They found a good tattoo parlor nearby for cheap-ish. They walked in and knew they were screwed.

The tattooist was the spawn of one of the school counselors.

Logan had been to the counselor’s office enough times, for detention, for lunch detention, to talk about his problems, etc, to have met the counselor’s kid, Remy. Remy was a genderfluid punk with a necklace with her pronouns on it. Logan noted that the necklace was she/her pronouns today.

Still, they had come too far to give up now. They just had to hope that Remy wouldn’t notice them.

No such luck. Remy looked up as soon as the bell above the door rang. Virgil looked away and hoped Remy did not recognize them.

Of course Remy recognized them. Her father, Dr. Emil Picani, worked at the high school. Sure, the two punks were still freshmen, but they had been to see her dad pretty often. She brought her dad lunch every Friday, finding it fun to walk through the school and watch the other kids suffering the way she had. (So, she was a sadist. You kind of had to be, to be a tattoo artist.) She walked up to the counter and decided to talk with the kids. She could see that they really wanted the tattoos, she just wanted verbal confirmation.

“Hello, my name is Remy Picani, she/her pronouns today, how can I help you?” she went through her shpiel with a smile that said she knew exactly what was going on.

“We want tattoos please. Verge, can you show her the design?” Logan kept his cool admirably well. Virgil pulled out two pieces of paper and showed Remy the designs he had made. Remy knew, just from the designs and the placements of them, that these were very important to them. They had obviously poured a lot of thought into getting tattoos, and they knew what they were doing here.

“Okay. These are your first tattoos?” Remy asked, reasoning to herself that if she does not do these tattoos then the two would try to do it themselves. That would be a disaster.

The two boys put up with the pain admirably well. Neither of them made a sound as the needle was buzzing away, and Virgil did not even wince. Remy worried a bit about what that could mean for the boy, then shrugged it off as not her business right now.

“Alright, gurls, there you go. That’s you done and you done, and payment time,” Remy said with a flourish as she finished. She explained the care instructions to them as they paid, and she could see that the boys would follow them.

“Can I ask, real quick, who designed these? They have real promise,” Remy asked, curious despite herself.

“I did,” Virgil spoke for the first time since entering the shop.

“These are real good, sweetie. I might see if I could hire you part-time to design for the shop if you want? You can’t work the needle until you’re 18,” Remy winked at the boys, “but you can do the designs for the tattoos if you would like.”

“I’ll think about it,” Virgil replied, not committing to anything. Logan could see, though, that his brother was very excited by this idea, he just wanted to wait and make sure the offer is genuine.

“Come back anytime, you two! I have a feeling you’ll be some of my most frequent customers,” Remy waved the two out the door before turning to the next customer. 


	6. Pastel Punk And Asshole Snake

Patton knew of Logan Sanders and Virgil Thompson. Of course he knew of them, who didn’t? The two had made a reputation for themselves even before they set foot in the high school halls. They were punks, and so was Patton. Patton, though, was a pastel punk; he lived by the punk lifestyle and had the spikes and dyed hair, he just prefered the lighter, softer colors. He got some flack from others about not being punk enough, but he shrugged it off.

Anyway, Patton knew of them, but had never had much of a chance, nor a desire, to interact with them. The two of them just screamed danger, and Patton did not want to get involved in their mess, at first. Later, he realized that they were just two damaged high schoolers trying to defend themselves against a world that hurt them. By the time he realized it, though, all of the chance to talk to them had passed, and Patton could only watch from the distance.

The opportunity to talk to them arrived unexpectedly, as the best opportunities do, and it shocked most of the student body. Let it never be said that Logan had no emotions or passion, as was evidenced by what will be referred to as “the Incident” or “Deceit’s Downfall” if the theater kids were feeling particularly dramatic.

The events were as follows:

Logan and Virgil had just gotten out of Biology class, and Logan had been in a hurry for something, so he was carrying his book in his hands rather than in his backpack.

Elliot, Patton’s Best Friend (yes, that deserved capital letters), who also happened to identify as nonbinary, had just gotten out of art class, and was being harassed by a punk known as Deceit. No one knew his real name, as anyone who asked got a different answer than the last person.

“Everyone knows there is only two genders, it’s just biology,” was among the things that Deceit said. Unfortunately for him, he said this within Logan’s range of hearing.

Suddenly, there is an AP Bio textbook flying through the air, followed by a medical textbook that Logan just happened to have with him. Both flew true, and hit the back of Deceit’s head with enough force to give the little asshole a concussion and to knock him right out.

While these books were flying, Logan was yelling, loud enough to be heard across the school.

**“NOTHING IS BINARY AND EVERYTHING IS GAY YOU IGNORANT BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!”**

Patton would remember that line forever.

Logan was still yelling, still ranting, and was advancing on Deceit as fast as the crowd would let him, which was fast, as they all got out of the way ASAP when they saw how pissed he was.

Someone must have gone to get a teacher, because, before Logan could kick the shit out of Deceit, as he clearly wanted to, he was being held back by Señor Jamal, the Spanish teacher, who was also one of the biggest and strongest teachers.

Virgil was hanging in the background, but stepped up to beat the shit out of Deceit when it became apparent that Logan was not getting free. Another teacher had to restrain him, too. A few students were picked out to take Deceit to the nurse’s office, and maybe the hospital, and the two volatile punks calmed down a bit once he was out of their sight.

Patton was amazed, but he was snapped out of his shock by Señor Jamal yelling at the students to get to lunch or wherever it was they went during lunch period. Patton ran over to Elliot, remembering that they were a part of the whole spectacle.

“Oh my God, Elliot, are you okay?” Patton asked, full Dad-mode activated, checking his friend over.

“I think I just witnessed a murder…” Elliot trailed off faintly, still a bit in shock. Patton did not blame him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. That was great, though. Hell of a Monday. I wonder if Logan will let us thank him,” Elliot snapped out of his shock and responded to Patton’s question.

Patton began to get an idea.

Later that week…

Patton’s plan was in place. He found out where Logan and Virgil preferred to eat lunch, and planned to meet them there and thank them properly.

Logan was chatting with Virgil about a new graffiti idea that Virgil had gotten from listening to the podcast Welcome to Night Vale, and was not expecting to get hugged out of nowhere by a pastel blur. He will forever deny that he made any kind of sound.

“Thank you so much for helping Elliot!!!!” the pastel blur squealed.

Virgil had, by then, moved away from the blur, who could now be identified as a person, and hid behind Logan when the person moved to hug him, too.

“No no, you have to work up to hugs with him,” Logan quickly defended his friend, as Virgil actually hissed at Patton.

“That’s okay, I’ll hug him from over here,” Patton decided.

“Who are you? Why did you hug me?” Logan asked, extremely confused.

“You helped Elliot against Deceit,” Patton reminded them.

“On Monday,” Virgil added, remembering the fight, “Was that their name? Elliot? Cool.”

“Yeah, Deceit was harassing them about being nonbinary, then you stopped him,” Patton explained, “so I wanted to thank you properly for that.”

“You thank people by tackle-hugging them during lunch?” Logan asked, genuinely amused now.

“Sometimes,” Patton replied with the biggest grin on his face. Logan and Virgil looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement to keep this pastel punk. They liked him.

“Do you want to come eat lunch with us every few days? Or, maybe bring your other friends here?” Logan offered.

“Awww, sure! I’ll bring Elliot and Joan and Talyn, and maybe Thomas when the elementary school lets me take him for lunch!” Patton was very excited. This was going even better that expected.

“Maybe one at a time?” Logan asked when he heard Virgil make a small noise of distress at the idea of so many people.

“Sure! I’ll bring Elliot tomorrow, if that’s okay. This way, you can meet the person you helped,” Patton planned.

They spent the rest of the lunch period getting to know each other, and Logan and Virgil were all the more determined to keep this pastel punk safe. Little did they know, Patton was feeling the exact same way. 


	7. How Patton Fit

Patton fit surprisingly well into their dynamic, Virgil thought. Better that expected.

It was interesting, Virgil mused, Patton was a different kind of friend. Logan and Virgil would fight the world for each other, but Patton would fight Logan and Virgil. Virgil knew that the two of them had some… unhealthy mindsets, but they were comfortable in them and would not correct the other much for fear of becoming a hypocrite.

But Patton was willing to fight them on their unhealthy mindsets. He had no fear that he was going to lose them as friends, because he had other friends to fall back on, or so Virgil thought. However, Patton always knew when to stop, when he was about to go too far. He never asked about family, except the once, and he supported Virgil in his interest in art and Logan in his academic pursuits.

Patton was gentle, as well, especially when they needed it, but he was also surprisingly insistent about some things. He was gentle when the topic of family came up, as he could see that it was a touchy subject for the two boys, but he was insistent that they get to know other people. Virgil suspected he was trying to rid them of their “two of us against the rest of the world” mindset. Patton wanted the boys to know that they had options, that they weren’t trapped in the lifestyle they had chosen. Of course, neither of the two pseudo brothers regretted any of their choices, just that the choices made by others affected them so much.

Patton brought a lot of sunlight into Virgil’s life. Sometimes, it was overwhelming. He knew it hurt Patton, sometimes, when Virgil had to be by himself, or only with Logan, but he understood, for the most part. Patton was the extrovert who had adopted two broken introverts and was trying to convince them they didn’t need fixing because they weren’t broken. Virgil still wasn’t convinced. He knew, better than anyone, that he and Logan were broken, and probably couldn’t be fixed. Patton’s sunlight was just shining on their broken pieces, exposing them to the world. Virgil wasn’t ready for that, and so felt that he could not, should not, be friends with Patton, because he would just darken the bright, bubbly, happy, punk.

Virgil didn’t want that. He tried to explain all of this to Patton once, but Patton just smiled and again insisted that they weren’t broken, that their experiences didn’t break them, but shaped them. Virgil argued that he was deformed, then, if his life has shaped him. Patton smiled again, such a soft thing, and gave him a hug, insisting that he was perfect, inside and out, just hurting and in an unsafe environment. Despite himself, Virgil found himself maybe, possibly, believing him. Hope is such a fickle, almost painful thing.

Logan wasn’t sure about Patton, but saw that he meant no harm. The bright punk was exactly that: bright, and, in Logan’s darker tinted world, almost blinding. It could be unbearable, at times, with the amount of sunshine and rose-tinted glass that was Patton’s worldview. Oh, Patton had proved, time and time again, that he was aware that life was not all sunshine and rainbows, but, with the optimistic outlook Patton had on, well, everything, it was like staring into the sun: blinding.

Still, Logan saw that Patton was helping Virgil, slowly, but patiently. Logan knew that he wasn’t the most stable of people, and neither was Virgil, for that matter. The two of them leaned on each other, took care of each other, helped each other, but it was hard to fix someone when you knew you were broken yourself. Both Logan and Virgil knew and accepted that they were broken, the numerous trips to Dr. Picani proved that, and broken people can’t fix other broken people; they can only help the other hold the pieces together.

Patton was, slowly but surely, starting to fix them, simply by being himself. He may not have known that he was doing it, not when he insists that they aren’t broken, but he was helping, a lot.

Many of Patton’s friends were helping, too. Elliot and Joan were twins, both nonbinary with they/them pronouns. Joan often wore a beanie, a bright orange thing that he had named, _named_ , Marco. Elliot was a punk, like Logan, Virgil, and Patton, but leaned more heavily to the emo side of the spectrum than even Virgil did. Little Thomas was undeniably adorable, as well. He didn’t really judge anyone, in the way that little kids did. He had an innocent, more simplistic view on life, that was, at the same time, strangely profound. Thomas understood the identities of Patton’s friends, and accepted them in the way that kids did: just like that. He helped Logan and Virgil by accepting them outright, asking some questions with a typical child’s curiosity, innocently and meaning no offence. Thomas wanted to know everything, a bit like Logan, but had his big brother’s overwhelming enthusiasm for almost everything.

Overall, Patton fit well, like there had been a hole where Patton was supposed to be, but hadn’t been. He and his friends slowly helped to heal some of the holes in Logan and Virgil, just by being them. Patton was aware of a lot of this, of course. He knew he and his friends were helping the two punk outcasts, he just wasn’t fully aware of just how much he was helping. Still, he never expected any gratitude, knowing that the two were often uncomfortable showing any emotion at all, as Virgil had been raised to believe emotion was weakness, and Logan didn’t interact enough with anyone to learn how to feel or show emotions properly. But, Patton accepted little things, like Logan offering to help him with school or Virgil helping him with art, and invitations to movie nights as their way of saying thank you.

Now there was just one more thing that seemed to be missing, but the three of them could not, for the life of them, figure out what. 


	8. Graffiti and a Princely Punk

Virgil loved to do graffiti art.

It was no secret, really, that most of the graffiti in the school and throughout the town was painted or drawn by Virgil. The police could never catch him, and they never really tried. Virgil’s art was beautiful, reflecting powerful emotions and expressions, and never had any vulgar or offensive language or images. As far as they were concerned, the graffiti was a teen’s way of adding to the community, and wasn’t hurting anyone. No one ever complained, either, as the graffiti made the building a conversation topic, which brought in more business. They only wished they could pay Virgil for his art, but no one ever saw him do his graffiti, and no one could ever find him to pay him, even when they knew where he would be.

Virgil himself found graffiti very calming. It was almost like that numb, emotional reset feeling that one gets after crying. Given his makeup, Virgil usually didn’t feel comfortable crying very much, as it made him look too much like a mess, but graffiti was almost as good an outlet. He knew his work was beautiful, and often thought it was the best part of him. So, when he went back to finish one of his in-progress works, only to find that it had been added to by someone else, he was admittedly sad.

Logan, of course, knew something was wrong immediately. After basically living with Virgil for almost their whole lives, he knew when Virgil was trying to hide something, and he knew how to get Virgil to tell him about it. Virgil knew better than to try and hide things from Logan, but he hid his worsening mood until they were alone and Logan could ask.

When they got to Logan’s house, Logan immediately rounded on Virgil, even ignoring the homework that he had to do.

“Virgil, what’s wrong? Who hurt you? Who needs to die?” Logan asked. Virgil mumbled something under his breath that Logan did hear because he was so used to Virgil mumbling.

“Someone messed up your art?!?” Logan was shocked. No one messed with Virgil’s art! The entire town knew better. Virgil’s art was the best on its own, and no one wanted to get on the bad side of Logan. Except, it seems, someone just did.

“Do you know who?” Logan got scary calm. That kind of calm when someone is so angry that it doesn’t even show.

“It wasn’t Deceit, I do know that. His attempts weren’t nearly as well hidden as this one,” Virgil replied, knowing for sure it wasn’t anyone in this town. But who?

“I’m going out,” Logan said. Virgil knew what Logan was doing, and he didn’t try to stop the blue punk. Still, Virgil almost felt sorry for whoever Logan caught.

Logan, meanwhile, had gone to stake out one of Virgil’s in-progress graffiti art. After a few hours, he saw someone with bright red hair, too bright to be natural, approach the art with a bag of spray paint. Logan got up as the figure raised a can and as they started to press the nozzle, Logan punched them in the face.

“Ow, what the hell?” the figure screeched, “Not the face, not the face!”

That particular set of words made Logan stop in confusion. Logan was teaching a lesson to this asshole who messed up his brother’s art, and this jerk was saying “Not the face?” What bullshit was that!

“Look,” the redhead said, “I don’t have any money on me, and I’m just trying to make some art. Can you not attack me?”

“Well, considering you are ruining my brother’s art, I think my attack was entirely justified,” Logan countered, still wanting to punch this person but not as much as he had.

“Oh, your brother does this? Can I meet him? The art is so beautiful and wonderful, I just felt that I had to add my contribution to it, even though I did feel like I might be ruining it,” the redhead babbled excitedly.

“If you felt like you were ruining it, why didn’t you leave it alone?” Logan growled, not willing to listen to babble right now.

“Because it was really pretty, but also really depressing. I just wanted to make it more cheerful!” the redhead grinned like that would get him off the hook.

Logan punched him again.

Logan went home after that, to help Patton with the mess that Virgil undoubtedly was. He knew Patton wouldn’t approve of what he had done, but Patton was just as protective of Virgil as Logan himself was, just in different ways.

He didn’t expect the redhead idiot showing up at school the next day.

Roman Prince, recently moved to Florida from New York, God knows why, was the name of the flamboyant theatre punk who had messed up Virgil’s art. As soon as he heard Logan voice in the halls (because of course Logan was yelling about at someone about something), he latched on to the only person he even vaguely recognized.

“Friend-o! I know we got off to a rough start last night, but can I hang with you?” Roman approached Logan just as lunch began and Logan was making his way to their usual spot.

“No,” Logan said shortly, and kept walking. Roman followed anyway, even when Logan threatened him with another punch to the face. Logan kept mostly quiet, hoping the silence would unsettle the loud (in actions, clothes, and voice) punk. No such luck. Roman still followed Logan, filling the silence himself.

When they finally reached the lunch spot, Logan could tell Virgil was startled, and unsure of what was going on. Patton was similarly unsure, but was still his usual welcoming self. Logan sat down next to Virgil and left Roman standing there awkwardly.

“So, who is this? Why did you bring him over?” Virgil whispered.

“This is the person who was messing with your art, Virgil. I punched him in the face a few times last night, and he recognized me at school today. He has since taken to following me around like a lost, lonely little duckling,” Logan said loud enough for Roman and Patton to hear, refraining from swearing and calling Roman something a lot worse because Patton was there and disapproved.

“Oh, my god, you are the artist of the pieces around town? They’re all so beautiful, I love them so much, and I just wanted to be a part of some of the amazing art that you create, but I’m really sorry I made you sad, I should have asked first,” Roman said all this in one breath, switching between moods faster than Virgil’s socially awkward, emotionally repressed self could comprehend.

“Ummmmmm,” Virgil replied, at an absolute loss. Cue Patton to the rescue.

“So, you’re an artist, too?” Patton asked, despite the fact that he was still a bit mad at Roman for making Virgil sad.

“Oh, I like to think so. Usually, I stick to theatre, as I can sing and act better than I can draw, but I occasionally branch out,” Roman replied, thrilled to have something to distract from the tension in the room.

Patton and Roman got on like a house on fire. Virgil was almost unnerved by it. Sure, Patton reprimanded Roman on Virgil’s behalf, once. See, Patton and Roman were the type of people who were extroverts. Logan and Virgil were introverts. Patton did love his little introvert punk friends, but he was glad to have an extrovert to help him fill the silence, and just glad to have another extrovert friend. Logan and Virgil were a bit less than pleased, but they went along with it because they saw that it made Patton happy. God help anyone who upset Patton. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, school started up again. I am in 3 AP classes, and 2 of them are kicking my ass. Updates will be few and far between, most likely until I graduate in the spring, or maybe once the AP tests are over and done with. We'll see. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Any feedback is always appreciated!


	9. A Bullying Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for homophobia and bullying of a small child. Brief mention of vigilante justice.

It started on a surprisingly good day for Patton.

Thomas was doing well in school, his parents had surprised him with some concert tickets to see his favorite band live with all of his friends, including the 4 new ones, and it was sunny outside. Overall, it was shaping up to be a great day.

It even continued to be a great day for a while. Virgil had made him a small art piece, an adorable kitten done up in Patton’s pastel blue colors snuggled up to a small black kitten done in Virgil’s black with purple highlights. There were Roman and Logan kittens, too, but they were in the background, yowling at each other as they do in real life. Patton could swear he could hear the sounds from that picture, it was realistic enough despite the non-natural cat colors.

It only started to be a not-good day around lunch time.   
  
See, at this particular high school, the elementary and middle schools were right next door or across the street, so older siblings could eat lunch with younger siblings, as well as pick them up from school in the afternoon or if they’re sick. Usually, Patton would walk across the street to the elementary school and meet Thomas for lunch. Sometimes, Patton would eat at the elementary school, others, Thomas would eat at the high school. It helped that they had the same lunch time.

Today, Patton walked over to the elementary school, as per usual, though he was accompanied by Virgil today, which was a pleasant surprise. Virgil didn’t usually like to go outside in bright sunlight, and it was a sunny day today, but here he was, walking with Patton to the elementary school to pick up Thomas for lunch.

That was about when everything went wrong.

Walking up to the school, Patton noticed that his brother was nowhere to be found. This was not, in and of itself, too unusual, as Thomas sometimes forgot when he was supposed to be having lunch with his brother, and Patton had to go get him. Still, Patton was starting to have a bad feeling about this situation, even if there seemed to be no reason for it.

This bad feeling only increases when the two of them could not find Thomas anywhere.

The two punks went to the administration desk to ask where Thomas was, and were told that he did show up for school, but had left class to go to the bathroom shortly before recess and had not returned. Based solely on that, the two decided to check the bathrooms, and hope for the best.

Thankfully, the two found little Thomas. Unfortunately, he was crying. Virgil started seeing red around the edges of his vision at that, but Patton, for the time being, kept a clear head.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton approached little Thomas in a crouch, with his hands up and voice soft, as one would approach a frightened animal. Virgil, for the time being, hung back.

At Patton’s voice, Thomas looked up, and quickly tried to dry his eyes and make it look like he had not been crying. Considering that the other two had already seen him, that didn’t make much of a difference. Making up his mind, Thomas ran into Patton’s open arms for a hug, which Patton willingly gave.

“What happened?” Patton asked softly as Thomas sobbed into his shoulder.

“Th-the other kids we-were making f-fun of me,” Thomas wailed quietly, not wanting to be heard by the anyone outside the room.

“Why?” Patton asked, with Virgil beginning to look murderous in the background. Pleading with his eyes, Patton silently begged Virgil not to make too big of a scene. Thomas had grown on all of the other punks, gradually, like a fungus, and Virgil loved Thomas like his own brother.

“Th-they said it’s be-because you are g-gay,” Thomas was quieter now, as if afraid to out his brother to anyone nearby.

“Well,” Patton started, pulling back a little to see Thomas’ face, “You know what you should tell them? Tell them that I’m leaving more girls for the rest of them.”

Behind him, Virgil let out a snort, no longer looking as murderous, though still looking angry. Quickly, Patton hurried to give Thomas more advice before Virgil asked for the names of the kids. Virgil didn’t really trust adults, Patton knew, and would probably try to take the law into his own hands if the others weren’t there to keep him steady.

“You should also tell a teacher who is bullying you. Then they’ll get in trouble and won’t bother you again,” Patton continued.

“If they do, just tell Logan or me. We’ll take care of them for you,” Virgil threatened. Thomas started giggling at that.

“V, you can’t do that, you’ll get in trouble and then Patton will be sad, and I don’t want Patton to be sad, so don’t do that,” Thomas said in one breath.

“Alright, Kid, but make sure to tell the teacher, especially if this isn’t the first time,” Virgil ruffled Thomas’ hair with a small smile.

Thomas looked up then, “Where’d Pat go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is kicking my ass, but none of my stories have been abandoned, I promise. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Updates are sporadic at best, sorry. Please leave comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, any little thing helps.


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